


Nicknames

by MADVS



Category: JUDGE EYES: 死神の遺言 | Judgment, 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Minor Gun Play, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 22:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20608019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MADVS/pseuds/MADVS
Summary: Hamura is found innocent, but he can tell Kuroiwa ain't happy. Maybe a new 'toy' will cheer him up. Or he'll just blow his head off.





	Nicknames

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, another attempt at uhhh, emotions. I'm about as good as them as Kuroiwa but I ain't [redacting] peoples [redacted] out of their head so key difference.

A dingy bar on the third floor of one of the many cramped office buildings in Kamurucho made for a perfect hideout. Hamura had many places like this, and Kuroiwa’s protection meant there wouldn’t be any unneeded interruptions. This was one of their lesser used ones, a bar owned by some scraggly looking man who offered his spot whenever they needed a place to lay now. He just so happened to have it in with some local weapons dealer 

Kuroiwa sits lavishly in his chair, letting his presence take over the entire damn floor. He looks so pretty, almost angelic as the range sunset casts light on his gentle features. Yet even with the light bouncing right off his endless brown- almost black eyes, there was nothing.

Hamura places a suitcase down on the table, sheer black, and the loud thud despite it’s gentle decent on the varnished wood showing that whatever there was heavy. Kuroiwa’s eyes were on him, he couldn't see it, but he could feel it, boring into the top of his skull like a sun beam through a magnifying glass.

The way Hamura felt right now, it was almost like he was offering a gift to Kuroiwa, asking for forgiveness for something he didn’t even do. Or maybe it was a preemptive gift, just in case his little slip up with Shintani ends up really fucking him over. In that case, maybe a brand new ‘toy’ wasn’t the best thing to give to Kuroiwa. 

The muscles in his hands tense briefly at the thought, and he holds back the urge to punch a hole in the wall at the spike of anxiety. He could’ve planned this better too, he didn’t have to be so damn sloppy with the guy. But none of that would have mattered if Kuroiwa didn’t decide to play good cop for once in his life. No, that asshole had to be the ‘shining star of the Kamuro Police force’. 

“You must’ve looked fucking fabulous that day, huh?” Hamura drawls sarcastically. Kuroiwa seems barely fazed by his words, “Turning in a big, bad, murderin’ Yakuza. You didn’t even hide the camera feed or anything. What are you? A step above that ratty co-worker of yours?”

“Are you still mad about that?” Kuroiwa asks, as if the answer wasn’t written all over Hamura’s weathered down face, “I have an appearance to uphold, you know.”

It was all business, an act, right? Being taken in by what was supposed to be his business partner, having the ever loving shit kicked out of him, and being locked away for a week? Hamura could forgive him, they had no time to stay mad at each other.

“Tak came up with a cute nickname for you.” Hamura starts as he unlatches the suitcase. Kuroiwa arches a brow, and whether or not he actually cares to hear doesn't really matter to much to Hamura.

“He calls ya the Mole.”

He raises his brows. He looks interested, vaguely amused, even. “Mole, huh?” Kuroiwa leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, “Did he tell you why a mole of all things?”

“Eh…” Hamura struggles. Yagami used all sorts of big, dumb, lawyer-y words. “Said it was because you strike in the dark, blindly feeding off chaos- some shit like that.”

Kuroiwa chuckles. It disturbs Hamura to see him smile, be it fake or not. But if he had to choose, the fact he saw legit humor in Kuroiwa’s eyes was making him uneasy. “What- you actually like it?” 

“I think it’s fitting.” Kuroiwa just needs to look at Hamura to tell they aren't on the same page. He rolls his eyes, “Just think about it a little more, Hamura.”

Hamura strokes his chin with a hum, the stubble on his chin had grown rougher than he likes. Shame they don’t got razors in holding cells. 

“I don’t get it.”

“Brick headed as always.” Kuroiwa closes his eyes with a sigh. Hamura finally opens the suit case and shows him what’s inside. Kuroiwa raises a brow in intrigue, “What’s this?”

“Special made.” Hamura says simply, “Gold plated Smith and Wesson, figured you’d want something special.” Hamura’s grip on the cover tightens. “Don’t know why I bothered. That asshole Tak did more to keep me from hanging than you did. Bitched the entire damn time too. Said he’d make sure I’d be locked up for good if I did it.”

“Well, that’s a real shame.” Kuroiwa grin is all teeth, “After all, you did beat a man to death.”

“Tch,” Hamura clicks his tongue, “Fuckin’ asshole. If I hadn’t been so lucky they would snuff your ass out just as quick.”

Kuroiwa huffs a chuckle through his nose and grabs the gun. Cocky bastard. He really thinks he can just go through the motions of the underworld backstabbing while not expecting the same to be done to him. Hamura never trusted these scientists types for a damn second. Cop, scientist, the very people running this nation, they were all more fucked up than Hamura could ever dream of being.

Whatever. He wasn’t here to tell Kuroiwa. Hamura watches him pick the gun out from the foam casing and examine in. He’s not smiling now, but there’s clear intrigue as he runs his thin, pale fingers, almost like the kind you’d see in that one damn book you read as a kid that gave you nightmares.

“Very nice.” He places it on the table, “Since when did you get so damn tasteful?”

“Comes with the part.” Hamura smirks, “You seem to like it, anyway.”

“Hmm, almost makes me forgive you.” 

“Hey you can drop the fuckin cop act now.” Hamura snaps, unamused. “It’s all over. We can go back to business as usual. Whenever the hell that’ll be.” 

“And with a little new found fame too.” Kuroiwa muses, as if that wasn’t the last thing they needed on them right now.

Hamura can spare a laugh, though. Can’t be all doom and gloom. “Yeah, you’re right, Mole.”

Kuroiwa smiles cheekily at the nickname. It might not be good to have one, per se, but he seems to be getting a laugh at least.

"As long as Yagami keeps his nose out of our business, he can call me whatever the hell he wants Kuroiwa just looks at him, his brows furrowed and expression serious.

“And I assume you’ll put an effort into keeping it from getting to that point.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hamura closes the suitcase and sets it down on the floor, needing something to keep his anxiety riddled body on the move. It takes his mind off of everything, the thoughts of what could go wrong from now to the future already plaguing his mind. Normally he wasn’t such a bitch, but then again, being sent to the slammer and possibly put on death row wasn’t what he called a nice vacation. He wasn’t going to spill his worries to Kuroiwa, either. 

While Kuroiwa what Hamura would consider an absolute psychopath, he was smart, and knew every kill was laced with layers upon layers of risk. 

He wasn’t going to pretend this whole thing wasn’t a pain in the ass for Kuroiwa too, but damn, he must be having the fucking time of his life right now. 

Kuroiwa stands up with the gun still in his hand and walks over to Hamura and holds it right to his head.

It's only been a week since he's seen him and Kuroiwa's scent of iron and fine cologne was almost nostalgic. “You haven’t said anything to Shintani-sensei or Yagami, have you?” He asks slowly.

Hamura looks past the barrel of the gun, the hand gripping it in a vice, and peered right into Kuroiwa’s cold, dark eyes. 

Kuroiwa can spot him from a mile away.

He would do it.

“No.” Hamura’s voice blankly rumbles, “Why the hell are you asking?”

Kuroiwa is silent as he sits in Hamura’s lap, the gun now kissing up against his forehead. Kuroiwa wraps an arm around Hamura’s back, keeping himself steady. Hamura doesn’t realize how cold the entire room had been, now with his body being covered by Kuroiwa’s warmth, yet the steel on the gun is enough to send a shiver down his spine. 

“You’re not the only paranoid one, Hamura.” He says quietly. He brings the gun to his lips, pressing it against the plush, chapped skin, showing the bottom row of teeth. “You just let it show.”

“And you’re wondering why that is?”

Kuroiwa gives a half smirk and lowers the gun, quickly taking the space with his lips in a deep kiss. Hamura keeps his eyes open. He’s hot all over, from body to his lips. It’s probably the most he has in common with other people.

Kuroiwa would just as gladly kill him as he would fuck him. Exciting and scary, a constant thrill, right up to the end. 

Just as Hamura feels his eyes flutter shut, Kuroiwa parts. A rush of air blows from Kuroiwa’s nose and onto Hamura’s lips. He can still feel them near, too close, ready to touch his again. Part of Hamura wanted to pretend like everything could just fall back into what they could call ‘normal’, it’d save him a few grey hairs at least. 

Kuroiwa rubs the barrel against Hamura’s neck, the metal losing it’s cold touch, soon feeling like an extension of Kuroiwa himself. Like another hand. 

Hamura’s glad that thing ain’t loaded. At least, it wasn’t the last time he checked.

“A lack of communication is what kills any good team.” Kuroiwa says, almost melodically. “It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen you.”

“Don’t you have access to my visits?”

“Please, Kamurucho’s a crime infested hellhole.” He scoffs, “I didn’t go through all the logs yet. Are you too lazy to tell me yourself?” His tone grows angry, spit flying from his lips and onto Hamura’s face. Hamura acts like he hates it despite the taste of Kuroiwa’s lips still fresh on his tongue.

Hamura turns his head, “You’re acting like Tak told me anything about his little investigation. The day came and I was out somehow.” Kuroiwa probably has some bullshit back up plan that he had all panned out in case shit hit the fan. He’s probably just agitated he wasted his time on it at all.

And just as quick Kuroiwa presses their lips together just as Hamura opens his mouth. Letting his tongue slip inside Hamura's mouth, coddling them together in a messy, open mouth kiss. Hamura can't stop a moan from slipping out from the back of his throat, deep and rumbly. He sounded almost desperate. Almost like a Pavlovian response whenever Kuroiwa kissed him. He didn't like to think he was conditioned this way. 

Kuroiwa presses the gun right against his heart and cocks it.

Hamura’s throat feels taught and he parts their kiss. His lips tremble as he forces words out. “That’s all there is to it.”

“Really?” Kuroiwa rubs his hips into Hamura’s, like he’s a stray cat getting cozy in someone's lap for a free meal. He licks his dry lips and leans closer, “And you’re telling the truth?”

Hamura is quiet for a moment.

“Yea-”

His ringtone goes off, the phone vibration rattling hard in his back pocket. Kuroiwa doesn’t even get up off his lap. He just looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to pick up. “Feh.” Hamura lifts himself up just enough to slip his phone out of his pocket and holds it against his ear. “Hello?”

“Good evening, Hamura-san.”

Fuck.

“Evenin’, vice minister.” Hamura tries to keep his voice steady. Dealing with him is never pleasant, but he never gets a call this quick in between hits, and hell after this whole thing with the trial he honestly didn’t expect another call at all.

That must mean.

“Did you tell someone about Shono?”

Hamura is certain Kuroiwa can see the color drain from his face.

“That lawyer, Shintani. I heard he just made a call to the ADDC.”

Hamura has never felt the phrase ‘Between a rock and a hard place’ feel so true as it did now. More like between a massive government conspiracy and a bloodthirsty sociopath. It’s hard not to stumble his words. “Well yeah, uh… I might’ve said something.”

He feels the gun press to his temple. Kuroiwa wants him to keep talking. His grip tightens around the phone as he keeps Kuroiwa in his peripherals. Even for him, it’s hard to speak smoothly with a gun pointed at his head.

“But it’s fine. He’ll keep quiet if I tell him to.”

“You idiot! How can you be so stupid!? This is unacceptable!” 

His voice is so loud even Kuroiwa can hear the Vice Ministers rage as clear as day. 

“You need to deal with this immediately! Have Kuroiwa-san do the dirty work.”

Hamura lowers his head, mumbling meekly, but loud enough for Kuroiwa to hear him.

He might die here, why not have a little fun? “It’ll cost you another hundred mil.”

The vice minister stammers angrily through the phone like some jumped up ape. “This mistake is yours and yours alone. Don’t test me.”

The line clicks, and so does the gun as Kuroiwa jams it against Hamura’s temple. He winces with a hiss of pain.

He peers open one eye to look at Kuroiwa. Any emotion he was faking before hand was now replaced by a very real tranquil anger. 

“So uh, we got another job already.”

Hamura sees Kuroiwa’s finger squeeze the trigger. Hamura gives him a small, defeated smirk. He looks like a kid who got caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“So what do you say, Mole?”

Kuroiwa isn’t laughing anymore.

“Hundred million sound good to you?”

Kuroiwa pulls the trigger.

The hammer slams against the gun.

It wasn’t loaded.

**Author's Note:**

> @MADVSC, but does it matter? There's like 10 people in this fandom. At least the fanfiction is good.  
Need more Kaito x Yagami


End file.
